Page 191 of Vasmora

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

MAEVYTH

The door clicked behind me, and I turned, expecting Rykaia.

When Zevander stepped inside, a flutter of delicate wings stirred in my chest at the sight of him, bringing to mind that first night I’d bathed in his room, when I’d caught a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. The first time I’d seen him without the mask.

There was nothing vulnerable about him now, the way he strode toward me with the kind of lethal grace that had me convinced he was more predator than man.

He removed his mask, tossing it onto a table as he passed, revealing the handsome face beneath it. As he closed in, his arms banded around me, and the moment he drew me to his chest, my muscles eased, melting into him.

I wrapped my arms around his back and closed my eyes, breathing in the fleeting moment of serenity, the grains of time that I knew were limited.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Overwhelmed with gratitude.” Tears wavered in my eyes. “I didn’t expect coming back here would wring so many memories out of me.”

“This place is good for that.” He ran his palm over my hair and kissed my forehead. “I’ll heat the bath for you.” Hands cupping my face, he kissed me, soft as a whisper, before heading toward the bathing room.

I pressed my finger to my lips to prolong the sensation, and smiled when I lifted the white shirt Rykaia had set out on the bed for me. One of Zevander’s tunics. Garment in hand, I entered the bathing room to find him kneeling at the water’s edge, the shirt he’d worn moments ago discarded on the floor beside it, revealing his scarred body and scorpions. Steam rose up from the water, the delicious scent of jasmine thick in the air.

“Will you bathe with me?” I asked, peeling myself out of the tunic that still carried bloodstains and spider venom.

A look of appreciation shimmered in his eyes. “How could I say no?” He pushed to his feet and slid off his boots, those molten eyes devouring me, while I doffed the leather pants I’d worn.

The warmth of the water swallowed me as I sank down onto the stone ledge. My aching muscles turned lax in the heat, and I closed my eyes, imagining an entirely different world outside the window.

Zevander slid into the water beside me and let out a groan as he stretched his arms out at either side and tipped his head back. A delectable and inviting sight that had my fingers itching to trace every inch of him.

Touch him, my head urged, and I reached out a hand, but quickly drew back.

Intimacy felt frivolous. Reckless for the kind of devastation we’d seen outside these walls.

Clearly sensing my uncertainty, he sat forward and banded his arm around my midsection, tugging me flush with his body. “You hesitated.”

“I wasn’t sure if now was the right time.”

“There’s never a wrong time for you. I’m yours to touch.”

As I wrapped my arms around his neck, he gripped the back of my head, pulling me to his lips as if kissing me was his only priority.

I let him drag me out of my thoughts and into the present, this calm and gentle space we’d been gifted. Pressing my forehead to his, I stole a moment to catch my breath. “How do you always leave me breathless?” With my hands threaded in his hair, I kissed him again, a voracious hunger stirring inside of me. “You make it impossible to dwell on anything else.”

“I like to keep my thoughts simple.”

“And what’s simple?”

The amusement in his eyes hardened. “Regardless of what happens, in the end, it will always be you and me.” The same thing he’d said to me back in Mortasia. “And that I love you.”

“How much?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “We’re quantifying love now?”

“Yes, I like to know how I compare to your other interests.”

The smile he flashed could’ve melted a tree trunk. “You’re not an interest. You’re a purpose. And I love you more than everything else.” He squeezed my waist, as if emphasizing his point.

I smiled. “More than killing?”